0.cached.png

0.cached.png

Newsweek Editors

By Newsweek Editors

0

Share

Newsweek is a Trust Project member

See more of our trusted coverage when you search.Prefer Newsweek on Googleto see more of our trusted coverage when you search.


Some high-tech multimillionaires spend their riches on extravagant yachts. Others finance movies or give it all to charity. T. J. Rodgers, the 57-year-old founder and outspoken CEO of venerable chipmaker Cypress Semiconductor, has perhaps the most quixotic pursuit yet. He's trying to make the best pinot noir in the world--with grapes grown in Silicon Valley.

Vanity vineyards are nothing new in the land of high tech. But the tycoons typically pour millions into grape fields north of San Francisco, in the counties of Napa and Sonoma. Even as corporate giants such as Constellation change the face of the beverage business, it's not unusual to see Silicon Valley CEOs or venture capitalists proudly passing out bottles of their own private labels. But Rodgers's obsession goes beyond filling a few trellises outside his Woodside, Calif., home (although he does that as well). Despite the windy oceanfront climate in the Santa Cruz mountains, west of Silicon Valley, he has purchased 160 acres of rocky, hilltop terrain and so far planted 25 acres of grapevines imported from Burgundy, the birthplace of pinot.

Obstacles abound. A spring storm destroyed his entire crop last year, gophers are a scourge and there are fierce community anxieties about the environmental impact of his plans. Yet where others see problems, Rodgers barrels ahead, full of facts and strategies about growing premium wine. His hilltop vineyard faces southwest, gets plenty of sun and is above the fog line, where many grape-damaging insects and germs don't venture. "I still believe I can make a great wine here," he says.

Read More on News

But pursuing this dream comes at a price, one that's as steep as some of the land he's trying to cultivate. Rodgers estimates he's spent $25 million of his own money on Domaine Lois Louise, named after his mother, which complements his two older vineyards, including the one at his home.

Rodgers has produced wine under his Clos de la Tech label for nearly a decade and sends his vintages to 1,000 customers, mostly other Valley bigwigs, who pay $100 a bottle. But Rodgers has spared no expense on his new land, including excavating three massive interconnected caves in the volcanic basalt, where he plans to crush his grapes, as well as age and bottle the wine. His longtime girlfriend, Valeta Massey, a former Cypress chip designer who manages the winery, admits the mountain vineyard is "a huge sink of money." John Kelly, a Sonoma winemaker who helped Rodgers with the early planning, says that "as far as I can tell, T.J. has completely redefined what it means to do a cost-is-no-object winery."

To many of the residents of nearby La Honda, Rodgers's plans carry a different price. Three years ago, according to resident Toby McLeod, their houses shook from the dynamite blasts used to make the caves. Community opposition hardened when Rodgers's planning documents revealed that his vineyard's hills were directly above the creek that supplies the town's water. Residents also lobbied San Mateo County to conduct a more thorough environmental review. The review could be completed as early as this spring. Rodgers dismisses his opponents as semi-employed reactionaries and insists he'll prevail.

That would free him to finish the caves, expand the hilltop vineyard beyond the initial 25 acres he's planted there and pursue his goal of engineering the world's best pinot. He plies a visitor with academic tracts on grape growing, with such esoteric titles as "Analysis of Oak Volatility on Gas Chromatography." The reports are covered with his hand-scrawled notes, and he often reproduces the experiments he reads about.

All this has set tongues wagging in Silicon Valley, where Rodgers's battles often make the local papers. Rodgers is legendary for his tenacity; he once publicly repudiated a Franciscan nun who advocated more gender and racial diversity on the Cypress board. "I think he knows he's nuts," says Kelly. "But he's committed to doing what he envisioned. That's what made him a successful entrepreneur in the first place." And now he wants to be one again, toiling in the real-life vineyards of winemaking.

View 0 Comments

Request Reprint & Licensing

Submit Correction

View Editorial & AI Guidelines